


could've spent forever (with your hands in my pockets)

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, F/F, Fluff, Pantsuits, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: “I have a baby,” Sara repeats, slowly, as if Ava is an idiot.“You've had a baby?” Ava doesn’t want to think about how else Sara would be in possession of a baby.“No. I have a baby. Not mine. Someone else’s.”





	could've spent forever (with your hands in my pockets)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Dancing With Our Hands Tied, because all I am is a Taylor swift stan.

Sara calls, as she always does, at an inconvenient time.

 

Ava is in the middle of a meeting. But, if she's going to be honest with herself, it's an unnecessary one, telling them things that any competent agent should already know. (Or at least, any agent who has cover-to-cover knowledge of the handbook, which, in Ava’s mind, is the minimum requirement for competency.)

 

So, she excuses herself, and answers the call in the hallway, trying to sound more annoyed than she is. (Even a perfect agent needs a break sometimes, and she might have been hoping that Sara would call at some point.)

 

“What?” It comes out even shorter than she had intended. She can almost hear Sara rolling her eyes.

 

“Hi, Sara! How are you doing, Sara? How nice to hear from you, Sara,” comes the reply, Sara’s voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

Now it's Ava’s turn to roll her eyes. Their interactions feel like a carefully scripted play, never straying too far from their parts. Ava’s not sure what would happen if they did.

 

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What do you want, _Sara_?” she asks, emphasis on Sara’s name.

 

It's a tease, a push on their boundaries. Ava wonders if Sara is smiling.

 

“I have a baby.”

 

Ava wonders if she heard that right. “You what?” she splutters down the phone. She hopes she hasn't heard right.

 

“I have a baby,” Sara repeats, slowly, as if Ava is an idiot.

 

“You've _had_ a baby?” Ava doesn’t want to think about how else Sara would be in possession of a baby.

 

“No. I _have_ a baby. Not mine. Someone else’s.”

 

Great.

 

“You say that like it makes it better!”

 

Sara is the last person Ava would trust with a baby.

 

“It doesn't make it better, per se. Just different.” Sara pauses. “And like, when would I have time to have had a baby. And who would I be having a baby _with?”_

 

“You're a time traveler, Sara. You have, quite literally, all the time in the world.” Her cheeks colouring, Ava ignores the second question. She doesn't like to think about Sara’s sex life. Or at least admit to thinking about Sara’s sex life.

 

She hopes Sara doesn't notice. (She's pretty sure Sara notices. Sara is annoyingly observant like that.)

 

To Ava’s relief, Sara moves on. “Anyway. That doesn't matter. What matters is that I need you. Now.”

 

Something in Ava’s stomach churns.

 

“Why me? Can't your plucky little team of heroes help you? Or, sorry, Legends.” She can't help the disdain that falls from her mouth. Sara may be growing on her, but she's still not quite sure that her band of misfits do much more than create problems.

 

“Not exactly. I'm kind of… stranded. We went to investigate an anachronism, and I was first off the ship, just as a bit of recon, and then the ship, kinda…. sorta… disappeared.”

 

Ava isn't even surprised. When the Time Bureau had had the Waverider in its custody, there had been many reasons as to why they'd turned it into a training ship, but the main reason was that it was, simply, pretty old and broken.

 

“So? Just give them a call and get them to come get you. I don't see why you need me.” She can’t help but sound exasperated. Part of her wishes she was still in the meeting. The other part of her tries to ignore her disappointment at the fact that it seems like Sara doesn’t _really_ need her.

 

Once again, Sara’s disdain is obvious. “You really think I would’ve called you first?”

 

Ava grits her mouth. “No.” (Yes.)

 

“I tried calling them first. No answer. There’s something wrong with our comms, so I turned to the next best thing: my very good friend, Agent Sharpe.”

 

“And what am I supposed to do?”

 

“Come help me with this anachronistic baby?”

 

Oh. Ava had temporarily forgotten about the baby. It makes her think that, maybe, she isn’t the best person to be dealing with it, either. Still, she is confident that Sara is worse, so she sighs, and says, “When are you? And where?”

 

“Georgian London. And don’t ask me for specifics, because I don’t know. The Georgians weren’t big on street signs. Can’t your phone tell you?”

 

It can, and twenty minutes later, Ava is stepping through time, and into the drawing room of a Georgian house.

 

Sara is sitting in the corner of the room, her eyebrows furrowed, a baby in her arms. She is, as always, dressed in ridiculous period clothing. The Legends really do enjoy dressing up. The dress is predictably low cut. Ava wonders if she does that on purpose.

 

“What took you so long?” Sara hisses, her voice low.

 

“Because I couldn’t just drop everything just because you called! Why are we whispering?” Ava whispers back.

 

Sara gives Ava a look like she’s an idiot. “Because the baby’s asleep.”

 

Right. Ava keeps forgetting about the baby. Even when it’s right in front of her. Sara is distracting.

 

Ava crosses the room to examine the baby. It looks like most other babies she’s ever seen.

 

Sara stands up, and holds the baby out towards Ava. “Can you take her for a minute? My arms are tired.”

 

Ava should’ve been expecting that, at some point, she’d have to hold the baby, but for some reason, she wasn’t. She hesitates for a second, but it doesn’t really seem like Sara is requesting so much as telling.

 

She takes the baby. It’s wrapped in cloth, two tiny hands poking out the top. It looks peaceful. The sudden warmth against her chest is comforting, more comforting than she had thought it would’ve been.

 

“She’s a girl,” Sara says, her face soft, her hands still hovering around the baby, as if, despite it being her idea to pass her over, she’s not entirely sure about the decision.

 

Sara notices her staring, and pulls the hands away.

 

Ava’s brow furrows. “How do you know?”

 

“I checked.” Ava must look shocked. “Don’t be such a prude. She’s a baby. Anyway, I couldn’t exactly keep calling her ‘it’”.

 

Ava’s cheeks colour, and she turns away, taking in the room.

 

“So, where exactly are we?”

 

Sara shrugs. “Some dude's drawing room.”

 

Ava considers this. In her arms, the baby squirms a bit, and she looks down, determined not to wake her up. If Sara could keep her asleep, Ava could too.

 

“And where exactly is this this 'dude' and all the other people I presume live here?”

 

Sara smiles a wicked smile. Ava sighs. “Tell me they’re not-”

 

“-knocked out in the other room?” Sara crosses her arms in satisfaction, her smile annoyingly smug. “Yep. And all thanks to me.”

 

Ava rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting that anyone else would have contributed. Why, exactly, are they knocked out?”

 

Sara sits down. Ava follows, her eyes flicking between the baby in her arms and Sara.

 

“Funny story.” Ava prepares herself for a story that isn’t funny in the slightest. “We actually managed to arrive here before the anachronism even appeared, which was a win for us.”

 

“And by a win, you mean, not totally incompetent?” Ava asks.

 

Sara stares her down. “No. It was a win. So once the Legends disappear, I figure I should still find out what the anachronism is. Gideon had the coordinates programmed into our phones, so I made my way here, flirted my way into the house-”

 

“Of course she did,” Ava mutters to the baby.

 

Sara ignores Ava’s mumblings.

 

“-and got here just in time to see the baby literally appear out of thin air. Of course, the family all thought she was some sort of evil spirit, and one of them looked like they might have been reaching for a weapon-”

 

“ _Might_ have been, or actually was?” Ava asks, exasperated.

 

“ _Probably_ was. I couldn’t risk it! Would you want me to have risked the baby’s life? Especially since she’s _obviously_ important.”

 

Ava looks down at the baby. She’s not _obviously_ important, but she supposes she must be if time has decided to mess with her. Her face is scrunched up. It’s adorable. She thinks that she could get used to this sort of thing.

 

“No, but… You _know_ that the Time Bureau policy is minimum interference. Knocking out an entire family isn’t minimum interference.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t work for the Time Bureau, isn’t it?”

 

“But, let me guess, you’re still going to need my Time Bureau memory eraser, so they can forget that a woman invaded their home and knocked them out?”

 

Sara smiles. “Now you’re getting it.”

 

“Is there anything you needed me for other than my gadgets?”

 

“Just a small favour.”

 

“Which would be, what, exactly?” Ava asks, sure that it’s not going to be small.

 

The baby starts to stir, and she absent-mindedly rocks it.

 

“Well. We don’t exactly know _who_ the baby is. So in order to find out, I need you to smuggle me into the Time Bureau.”

 

“What?” Ava stands up, suddenly, and winces as she feels the baby start moving more. She doesn’t look down, fearing the worst. “She’s woken up, hasn’t she?”

 

Sara doesn’t need to answer, because the baby starts crying.

 

“What do I do?"

 

Sara shrugs. “She was asleep when I got here.”

 

“Helpful,” Ava shoots back.

 

She holds the baby up in front of her. “What do you want?” The baby’s eyes are dark brown, and they hold Ava’s gaze, but don’t seem to offer any answers.

 

“I don’t think the baby speaks English, Agent.” Sara looks amused. It’s not in the slightest bit helpful.

 

The baby evidently does not, her wails continuing.

 

“If she’s just crying because we woke her up-”

 

“Because _you_ woke her up,” Sara corrects, before shutting up after a glare from Ava.

 

“-then surely all she needs to do is go back to sleep? Right?” Ava's voice is verging on desperate. She doesn't like having a crying baby on her arms. She can't control the baby, and anything out of her hands is a worry. 

 

The baby doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of going back to sleep. In fact, she seems wide away, her hands grabbing at Ava. She gets a fistful of Ava’s hair and pulls. Her bun puts up a good fight, but eventually deteriorates under persistent attack from the baby’s tiny hands.

 

After a couple of minutes, and no sign of the baby going back to sleep, Ava sighs. “She’s probably hungry.”

 

Sara disappears out of the room, presumably in search of food. Ava is doubtful that Sara knows what food babies eat.

 

Ava sits down, and props the baby up in her lap, hands under her armpits. “Who are you?” she muses.

 

The baby briefly pauses its crying, and gurgles in response. A second later, the crying starts up again, her tiny face red from exertion.

 

Sara returns five minutes later, a bottle of milk in her hand.

 

Ava knows that babies aren’t supposed to drink cow’s milk until they’re older, but it also doesn’t seem like there’s going to be any baby formula around, so she takes it gratefully. She's surprised to note that Sara even managed to warm it.

 

Another five minutes pass, and the baby has stopped crying. Her eyelids seem to be drooping again, and eventually she falls back asleep, and Ava can finally question Sara on her ‘plan’.

 

“My plan is that you smuggle me into the Time Bureau. We find out who she is. We put her back where she belongs.”

 

“Anything more detailed than that?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“You’re incredibly frustrating.”

 

Sara smiles. “It’s what I do best.” She must see the genuine annoyance on Ava’s face, because her voice softens. “I’m sorry. I know this is putting you in a difficult position. I’d do it upfront, but I just don’t need to give the Time Bureau another reason to hate us.”

 

“What’s to say I won’t tell them?” Ava asks, knowing full well that they both know she won’t. She’s not sure how they got there, and she’s 100% sure she doesn’t like it.

 

“Just a hunch.” Sara looks at Ava, her face hopeful.

 

Ava sighs. “Fine. But you can’t break into the Time Bureau wearing those clothes.”

 

Sara’s face breaks into a full, genuine smile, and Ava can’t help but smile a bit too. “So you’ll help me?”

 

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

 

Sara holds her hands up. “I would never.” Ava doubts this. She’s already slightly regretful of her decision.

 

The baby stirs, and Ava looks down. She hadn’t expected to become attached to this child so quickly, but she already feels like it’s going to be difficult to relinquish her. She is lost in the moment, and for a second, she doesn’t hear Sara speaking.

 

“... what was that about clothes?”

 

“You’ll stick out a bit wearing….” Ava makes a gesture in the direction of Sara’s elaborate costume. “...that.”

 

“You don’t like my dress?” Sara almost pouts. It’s ridiculous and childish and Ava hates the effect that every little thing Sara does has on her.

 

“It’s from the 1700s. We don’t really dress like that at the office.” She gets up and hands the baby to Sara. Sara takes her with more care than she’d been showing when Ava had first arrived. At least she’s having some sort of positive impact. “Wait here. I guess I’ll get you some of… my clothes.”

 

She turns away before the smirk fully registers on Sara’s face. Her cheeks are colouring as she makes the portal.

 

Five minutes later, she’s back, a new uniform in hand. Part of her is loathe to waste a new suit on Sara, another part of her doesn’t want Sara wearing anything she’s worn before.

 

Sara takes it from her, registering the perfect creases and new clothes smell.

 

“New? You shouldn’t have, Ava,” she says, that usual sickly sweet smile on her face. It makes Ava wish she _had_ just brought her something worn, but she’s sure Sara could’ve found something to say about that.

 

Sara sets the baby down on the couch she had been sitting on, where she promptly tries to roll off, Ava only just catching her in time.

 

Sara’s eyebrows raise. “Oops.”

 

Ava doesn’t know how she’s so casual. She feels like she’s just had a mini heart attack.

 

“Why did you put her down?”

 

“Because you’re gonna need both hands to get me out of this dress.”

 

Ava takes a deep breath.

 

Sara turns, quickly shedding off what Ava would’ve assumed to be the whole dress, but what appears to be only the top layer. A skirt comes off next, and then Ava is left with the corset. To her relief, there still seems to be another layer under that.

 

The corset _is_ finnicky, but eventually, after what seems like an age of pulling at laces, Sara is free. She takes the new clothes from Ava, pauses briefly, and then seems to make an executive decision to get changed in the next room.

 

Ava breathes a sigh of relief, and goes to pick the baby back up, her weight comforting. “It’s so much easier to be a baby,” she muses. She is still talking quietly to the baby when Sara returns, now dressed identically to Ava. It’s a bit too much.

 

The cuffs on her sleeves and pant legs are rolled up just a bit. Ava wants to make a comment about uniform policy, but she bites her tongue.

 

“So what’s the plan?” Ava says, really hoping Sara actually has one.

 

“We portal to the Time Bureau, find the current anachronisms, and if it’s not clear which one she is, you guys must have some sort of magical DNA sequencer, right?”

 

“It doesn’t work on magic, but, yes.” She pauses. “Why couldn’t I just do this on my own?”

 

“Because I don’t trust you with the baby.”

 

Ava gapes, clutching the baby closer to her.

 

“Kidding. Kidding. I just think it’ll be easier if there’s two of us. Someone’s got to be a lookout, right?”

 

“But if I’m there on my own I’m not doing anything wrong-”

 

“No time for questions,” Sara interrupts, pressing the Time Courier on Ava’s wrist, pulling her through the portal.

 

They stumble into Ava’s office. The corridor outside is busy, and she shushes Sara as she starts to make an exclamation.

 

“You should stay here while I see if she’s turned up on our scanner.”

 

Sara seems reluctant to stay out of the action, but agrees.

 

She takes the baby, and as Ava leaves, she can already see Sara nosing at the photos on her desk.

 

It doesn’t take long to figure out who the baby is. Or, more accurately, who she might be. Everyone at the Time Bureau is up in arms, because, simultaneously, Elizabeth I, Victoria, and Elizabeth II have been reported missing across the timestream.

 

She hurries back. Sara has the baby high above her head, running around the room. Ava winces.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

 

Sara turns, having the decency to look slightly guilty. “Why. Who is she?”

 

Ava closes the door, crossing her arms. “One of the Queens of England.” Sara almost drops the baby. Ava takes her back. “More specifically, one of the Elizabeths, or Victoria.”

 

“Any idea which?”

 

Ava sighs. “No. I guess we’re using the scanner.”

 

She is not excited by the prospect of sneaking through the heaving office. Sara is more excited than she should be.

 

Luckily, the huge anachronisms seem to have drawn a lot of agents into the field, and the rest into the command centre, so the halls are relatively empty, that is, until they hear Rip’s voice from right around the corner.

 

Sara opens a door next to them, and, to their luck, it’s unlocked. She pulls them inside, and Ava immediately feels her luck run out.

 

It’s a broom closet. Of all the cliches in the world. Sara’s face is inches away from hers, only the small matter of a baby in the way. She is terrified by the thought that, if the baby hadn’t been there, she might have closed that gap.

 

She doesn’t take a breath until Rip’s voice fades away, and then it is a short trip to the sequencer. Ava locks the door behind them, her heart rate slowing a bit at the relative safety.

 

The Time Bureau’s technology is, of course, excellent, and, ten minutes later, the machine is blinking at them, telling them that they currently have Elizabeth I in their possession.

 

Sara picks her up, far less gingerly than Ava would’ve, inspecting her head. “I suppose her hair does look sorta red.”

 

Ava rolls her eyes. “It would have been helpful if you’d noticed that earlier.”

 

“Nobody’s perfect.”

 

“You can say that again,” Ava mutters. Sara grins, like she always does. Her relentless cheerfulness in the face of Ava’s criticism feels like a personal assault.

 

Now that they know who the baby - Elizabeth - is, it isn’t hard to return her to where she’s supposed to be.

 

The only hurdle is when they briefly have to dodge some Time Bureau agents already investigating, but there are more places to hide in Tudor London than in a stark hallway. Sara pulls Ava a bit too close, her hands digging into Ava’s sides. Ava focuses all her attention on the baby.

 

This time, armed with memory erasers, there is no need for costumes. It’s more than a little amusing to see the scandalized looks on Elizabeth’s nursemaids at their attire.

 

Soon enough, Elizabeth is dropped back off, and all of a sudden, the mission is over.

 

They portal back to the Time Bureau, and there is silence.

 

Ava clears her throat. She should say something, say anything-

 

Sara’s phone goes off, and she breaks into a grin.

 

“Hey! They finally got comms on the Waverider working again.”

 

Ava can’t tell if she’s glad for the distraction.

 

“Can you-”

 

“-portal you there? I suppose so.”

 

Sara puts the coordinates into Ava’s courier. As the portal opens up, Ava calls out, “I want the clothes back!”

 

Sara turns and winks.

 

Ava is glad that the portal closes before she can blush.

 

She returns to her apartment to find the clothes on her bed, a note on top.

 

_I liked wearing your clothes._

 

She scrunches the note up in the palm of her hand, then reconsiders, smoothing it out and folding it up.

 

Sara Lance is going to be the death of her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm now 2/7 of my way towards making legends my most written for fandom, with one more almost written! I have fallen SO HARD for this ship


End file.
